


Fallen

by itsnotlove



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Priests, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unspecified mythical beings, gratuitous use of flashbacks, let's just hope this makes sense, that's not what monks wear but u do u, what time period does this take place in? we just don't know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: For once, Shizuo thinks he has a hold of his temper. He's trained for years to contain it, and for the most part, he's succeeded. Even if it isn't gone, he isn't breaking as many bones. Surely, there's no one in the universe who can change that. (This summary is terrible, but the story is significantly less terrible. This is my take on Priest/Vampire Shizaya, but... it's not exactly... what you'd expect.)   should be updated weekly





	

**_Some time ago…_ **

  


Contrary to popular belief, when a person dies, the way they lived their life is deemed irrelevant. No matter how many good and decent, or sinful and hideous, acts one committed during the course of their lifetime, none will have any bearing on what happens to a person in the afterlife.

 

How could they? It is only human to make mistakes and to use poorly considered logic. The amount of bad judgement each individual suffers from is enough to send each and every one to what humanity would surely consider Hell. It would be grossly unfair to punish any person for something they are unable to control.

 

No, instead of a judgement, each individual faces a trial. They are asked a single question, one they definitely have the answer for, and they must answer the questioner honestly. Whether the individual is aware of how to locate the answer within them is something else entirely, but should they answer correctly, they are rewarded with paradise.

 

If not, the consequences aren’t as dramatic and dire as scholars of old would have you believe, but they’re hardly pleasant, either. Knowledge is king, and only those who can see inside themselves can be rewarded.

 

The understanding of what was expected of him erupted inside Izaya as he sat across from the shapeless mass on the other side of the chess board. It looked vaguely familIar, yet totally unrecognisable, and he couldn’t help but feel skeptical of it.

 

Izaya loved puzzles, but with so much on the line, he was unable to round the sharp edges of his nerves. The chessboard in front of him still held many pieces, but it was obvious that the game was nearing its conclusion.

 

“What is it you want?”

 

The question wasn’t asked so much as it was felt, the words running beneath Izaya’s skin like small insects. He smiled, shrugged, and leaned back in his seat.

 

“What a vague question.” His voice was strained, but it could be due to his own excitement. “Could you be more specific?”

 

The mass in front of him stayed silent, but the buzzing under his flesh seemed to grow more urgent. Ignoring it as best he could, Izaya closed his eyes and mimicked a large sigh.

 

“I want to observe humanity.”

 

His eyes opened, his stare nearly slicing the mass in front of him.

 

“I want to be a part and apart of humanity.”

 

His legs uncrossed themselves, and his arms moved behind his head as if to cradle it.

 

“I want to continue this wondrous affair with humanity, because I’m the only one who can love each and every human. They belong to me.”

 

The glint of something white and sharp flashed through Izaya’s mind, cutting his consciousness and causing him unimaginable pain. The bottom of his stomach dropped, and he wondered if he’d somehow answered incorrectly.

 

‘ _There’s nothing I love more than humanity!_ ’ He screamed soundlessly, the words swirling inside him like some sort of plea. ‘ _There’s nothing I want more!_ ’

 

The pain ceased so quickly that it left him reeling, almost making him feel worse. A sort of strange sickness seeped through his body, making him feel lethargic and heavy.

 

When he opened his eyes, it took several blinks for his sight to return, and when it did-

  
  
  


**

  
  
  
  


**_Some time ago…_ **

  


As a child, Shizuo had been forced to endure more than most adults would in their entire lifetime. He had been well-loved, even cherished, by his family, but that only seemed to make things harder on him.

 

To watch his loving, supportive family be ostracised by their village had been more than he could bear. The guilt of knowing he was the cause was of their hardship broke his heart, and though he knew his mother would cry and his father might never forgive him, he packed a small bag and snuck out in the middle of the night.

 

Even as a ten year old, he knew this was for the best. If his brother were ever to have a chance in the world, he couldn’t be forced to live in Shizuo’s violent shadow. His family would never have admitted he was a monster, and would have closed ranks around Shizuo, but that only made his decision easier. They deserved better, and this was all he could do for them.

 

His journey had been shorter than he’d expected. He’d heard the fantastical tales of a monastery, whose monks were stronger than any others. From what Shizuo had eavesdropped from the other children, the monks were powerful and patient, but exclusive. To live with them, you must be borne of them, but that didn’t deter Shizuo in the least.

 

Maybe, if he picked up a tree or broke his fist through the crust of the Earth, they’d make an exception. Of course, that was only a fantasy. Shizuo knew that he could never be accepted for what he was, and merely planned on sleeping in the woods by the monastery. Surely they’d let him do at least that, right?

 

After a day of walking (which was broken up by the curious exploration of dead trees and hidden caves), the sun began to set and Shizuo realised for the first time just how alone he was. His mother wasn’t there to give him milk or tuck him into bed, and his father wouldn’t ruffle his hair while he thought he was asleep, or whisper to him that it wasn’t his fault.

 

He was truly alone, with only the shadows and his insecurities to accompany him.

 

With his jaw set and his chest puffed out, Shizuo decided he wasn’t afraid. He was strong enough to fend off anything that wished to harm him, even if he didn’t know what it was. Nothing could hurt him! And he was a tall boy, so he’d easily be mistaken for a man if he remembered to walk on his toes.

 

A branch cracked in the near distance, and Shizuo’s pulse raced.

 

No, no he was tough!

 

“G-Go away!” His small voice warned as his arms wrapped protectively around his chest. “O-Or… I’ll beat you u-up!”

 

A chuckle echoed through the forest, followed by another, and Shizuo had the feeling he was outnumbered.

 

Never mind, he’d fought more than one person before! The last time someone had tried to burn their house down, he’d beaten _three_ grown ups up!

 

“Are you lost?” A third voice asked in a strange accent, and Shizuo spun himself in such a tight circle as he looked for it that he fell to the ground.

 

“N-No!”

 

“You’re not meant to be here, little one.” A fourth asked, and Shizuo scuttered backward and sought safety in the roots of a tree.

 

“I d-don’t see your name on it!” He replied lamely, his confidence wavering audibly. He’d never fought four grown ups at the same time before.

 

“Don’t be afraid.”

 

The light of a candle flickered between the trees ahead of Shizuo, making him feel anything but calm.

 

“I’m not! AH-!” A hand gripped his shoulder, and Shizuo fought to swallow his scream. His father had always told him that fear only made mean people meaner, and he decided to heed that advice and pretend that he wasn’t in the process of wetting himself. “I’ll- I’ll-!”

 

The light in front of him grew closer, illuminating its previously hidden bearer. A man with a wonky smile stepped into view ahead of him, as a taller (giant?!) man stepped in from the left. They were wearing dark clothes, and carrying small torches. Silver around their necks caught the light, flashing dangerously and drawing Shizuo’s attention.

 

“Who-”

 

“Did you stumble into the yard, without knowing who it belongs to?” Another man asked, flashing Shizuo a wicked grin. “You’re lucky these two are big softies for kids, kid.”

 

“I’m not a kid!”

 

The loud, poorly timed rumbling of Shizuo’s stomach prevented him from protesting further, and silenced the strange men surrounding him. That silence only lasted a few moments, however, before being broken by the booming and strange voice of the giant.

 

“Hungry!?”

 

“Lost boy, when did you eat last?” The grinning stranger asked, walking forward as a weird clopping sound accompanied his steps. “Did you forget to bring food?”

 

Shizuo’s stomach rumbled again, and he shook his head. His fear was still present, but slowly being eaten away by embarrassment. It would have been smart to bring food with him, but he hadn’t known what to pack that his mother wouldn’t have missed.

 

“Come!” The giant took several quick strides toward him with his arms outstretched, and a fresh wave of fear rocked Shizuo to his core. He pressed his back further against the tree, ignoring the thin hand resting on his shoulder, and tried to will the stranger away from him. It was no no avail though, and he was soon picked up and placed on the giant’s shoulders. “Eat!”

 

“Simon...” The owner of hand spoke, straightening himself up. His tone sounded like a tired warning, but Shizuo was too terrified to understand it.

 

To the side, another man had walked to the stranger with the grin, darkness dripping from the lines in his face like oil. The pair watched the other two quietly, though there was obviously some curiosity there.

 

“Young boys should eat.”

 

“He isn’t our relation.”

 

“No?” The giant, Simon, tilted his head to the side in mock confusion. After a second, he seemed to understand what the problem was and looked at the bystanders. “He’s my nephew.”

 

“Is that so?” The grinning man replied happily, despite his partner’s apparent boredom. “Nephew-san, you can call me Oi-chan.”

 

Atop the shoulders of the giant, Shizuo struggled as much as he could until he couldn’t fight a second later. His stomach rumbled again, this time more loudly, and he flopped onto his captor’s head.

 

“Is it poison…?”

 

The three men surrounding him and the giant found other places to look, and the giant shook his head.

 

“Okay… I guess.”

 

With that, the group slowly made their way toward their cleverly disguised residence. It was still a far walk, and despite his best efforts, Shizuo still managed to fall asleep. There was something about the strangers that comforted him, and though he knew he should be more wary, there was no way he could stop the soft warmth that spread throughout his limbs.

 

Somehow, he felt as though he were home.

  
  
  
  


**

  
  
  
  


Shizuo never ate anything that first night. Instead, he was tucked into a futon by his captors, who spent the rest of the evening taking turns staying awake. Why they were frightened that Shizuo might up and leave was anyone’s guess, but by the time the sun rose, the boy had barely shifted.

 

It was only when the aroma of breakfast wafted into the room he was sleeping in that he woke up, and he’d almost forgotten where he was. He could smell something fresh, and it made his stomach flip painfully.

 

Without a care, Shizuo snuck out of bed and wandered out of the room, wiping his eyes with the base of his palms as he followed the smell. There was absolutely no reason why he shouldn’t be panicking, but it might have been the mixture of exhaustion and hunger that allowed him to ignore it. The building he was in seemed more like a shack than a home, though it was obviously well cared for.

 

Time had really taken a toll on the walls, with small cracks spreading up from the ground like roots. They’d been patched roughly, likely to avoid any greater damage, and were strangely decorated.

 

“The boy is led by his nose!” The gia- Simon’s- voice bellowed out from the next room, and Shizuo stopped in his tracks. His eyebrows knit together as he tried to understand the situation, but no explanation came. It would be rude for him to run away, but he really had no idea who these men were. “Come, come! Eat!”

 

Something poked the back of Shizuo’s knees, sending him stumbling forward. Insulted, he turned his head around and craned his neck, an annoyed expression blossoming on his face. “Oi-!”

 

“I don’t trust Simon’s cooking either, but Denis’ll come find us if we don’t hurry up.” The grinning man from the night before, the one who’d introduced himself as ‘Oi-chan,’ smiled down at Shizuo in what he probably thought was a reassuring way. With a glance, Shizuo realised that the man had poked him with a weird looking stick, and he wondered whether he’d be thrown out if he snapped it. “C’mon, kid.”

 

It didn’t take much more for Shizuo to be ushered into the room, which appeared to be a kitchen, and even less for him to trust the food he was given. He shovelled it down quickly, choking occasionally on pieces of rice and onion, and paid no mind to his surroundings. Four men surrounded him at the small table, each regarding him with interest and (mild) disgust. The kid had forgotten almost all of his table manners, and didn’t even bother to stop for air.

 

By the time he was done, his plate was already reloaded with a second helping, and Shizuo ate in a way that was only slightly less frenzied. Once he was finished, he seemed to realise just how rude he had been, and his face flushed pink.

 

“Sorry...”

 

“Good!” Simon beamed, untouched by disgust and swelling with pride at his cooking. “Growing boys need to eat!”

 

With no idea what to say, Shizuo shrugged and slunk into his seat. The others were still picking at their breakfast, and maintained a loaded silence.

 

“Where… am I?”

 

“You don’t know?” Another voice with a strange accent asked, and Shizuo shook his head slightly. The man glanced at Simon, whose smiled only widened, then looked back to Shizuo. “What were you looking for?”

 

“Nothing...” As much as Shizuo hated to lie, he suddenly felt self conscious of his motives.

 

“You found Nowhere.” The man replied, and pushed his plate away from himself.

 

“Nowhere...” Shizuo repeated quietly, as he tried to understand what that meant. “Who are you?”

 

“It’s rude to ask who a person is, without first introducing yourself.” The man whose face seemed to drip with shadows spoke, his voice low and careful. “Why don’t you start with that?”

 

Their watchful eyes seemed to burn into Shizuo’s skin, and he looked at his hands and kicked his feet lazily as a distraction. His reputation had spread throughout his village, and he worried that these men might cast him out if they knew his identity. “I’m…” He paused, but found he was unable to think of a false name. “Heiwajima… Shizuo.”

 

The room fell silent as the men silently conversed with one another, and Shizuo felt his stomach drop.

 

“I’m Denis.” The man who’d said he’d found Nowhere stated, before rolling his head toward Simon’s. “This is Simon.”

 

The names were strange, and Shizuo repeated them quietly to himself.

 

“These are our… visitors.” His head rolled the opposite direction toward the men on the other side of him. “Akabayashi and Shiki.”

 

“You can call me Oi-chan.” The man with the weird stick chirped, offering a smile that sent a chill down Shizuo’s spine. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a kind smile, but more that it was a smile that had _seen things._

 

Nodding, Shizuo turned his attentions back to the table in front of him. The last skerricks of food were brightly coloured, and he realised he hadn’t the faintest idea what he’d eaten. Memories of an old story about a witch in an edible house rushed through his mind, paling his face and widening his eyes. Had he been poisoned? Were these men going to fatten him up and eat him?

 

“Looks like he just noticed what he ate.” The man named Akabayashi chuckled, narrowly avoiding the dagger Denis’s stare threw at him.

 

That joke didn’t seem too humourous to Shizuo though, and he took it as a threat. He pushed away from the table, sending himself flying backward in the chair and to the ground as the table itself flipped onto the men sitting around it with a mighty crash. Scrambling to his feet, he moved backward with a manic expression.

 

“We won’t hurt you.” The man named Shiki spoke carefully as he brushed a piece of wood from his shoulder.

 

“Who… Who are you?!” Shizuo yelled back, his fists in front of him defensively.

 

“Did the kid really just come with us, even though he didn’t know?” Akabayashi asked no one in particular as he layed on the ground. His arms tucked under his head, and he laughed softly despite Shizuo’s distress. “What a trusting guy.”

 

“Shi-zu-oh, you’ll upset stomach!” Simon laughed, rising to his feet and walking toward the frightened boy slowly. He stopped at a respectable distance, and held his hands out by his sides in an effort to calm him. “Don’t you recognise your uncle?”

 

“Y-You’re not my unc-!”

 

A large hand suddenly covered most of Shizuo’s face, surprising him with the speed it used to reach him. His eyes widened even further, and his body reacted before his mind had a chance to. Shizuo kicked, bit, and did everything in his power to try and wrangle Simon’s large palm away from him, but it was all for nought. Even though it was obviously hurting the large man, he just couldn’t seem to free himself.

 

What… was he?

 

There was another chuckle, this time from Shiki. The laughter seemed to change his face totally, making him appear far more approachable than he had been at first. “Must be tired if he doesn’t remember his ‘uncle’ is a monk.”

  
  
  
  


**

  
  
  
  


The days following that fateful meeting soon turned into weeks, which bled into years. Akabayashi and Shiki, the men who’d been there when Shizuo was found in the woods, had left within the week. That was fine with Shizuo, who couldn’t help but feel unease around the two of them. They reminded him of snakes, but snakes with hidden fangs. As kind as they seemed, they truly did feel dangerous, and he could never truly let down his guard around them.

 

As for his adoptive parents captors hosts, well, they were another type of people altogether. If he were to think about it, Shizuo might liken them to a camp fire in the morning. There was no danger there, and you could even step on the fire pit without harming yourself. But there was still a heat to it smoldering beneath the freshly laid dirt that reminded you of what it once was.

 

Of course, as a young boy, Shizuo never articulated his thoughts in this manner.

 

“So weird...” He’d mumble whenever Simon clapped in encouragement, or Denis patted him on the shoulder.

 

It wasn’t that he was unused to affection, but rather that he wasn’t used to being shown it by people he wasn’t directly related to. As he’d grown up, his extended family had grown apart from his immediate family, often joining strangers in sharing impossible and insulting stories about the young boy. To have two strangers not only accept him, but praise him… well, it really was weird.

 

That wasn’t the only thing that Shizuo had found bizarre, however. For a start, he hadn’t immediately believed that they were monks.

 

Their language wasn’t what he’d expected. Sure, the pair tried to keep it clean when they knew Shizuo was floating around, but they couldn’t help but curse if they stubbed their toe or were being attacked by insects.

 

Another thing that seemed odd was their style of dress. Rather than wear the more traditional robes that other monks did, they wore dark, form fitting trousers and shirts with high collars, and long coats that almost kissed the ground as they walked. The clothing was practical, and seemed far easier to move in, but it wasn’t what Shizuo had expected at all.

 

It had barely taken a day for him to question their strange attire, receiving a chuckle and a stranger reply in return.

 

“Easy to move, easy to work!” Simon had laughed, delighted by Shizuo’s curiosity.

 

Akabayashi, who had been within earshot and was wearing similar clothing, chuckled happily. “It fits their aesthetic.”

 

Whatever that had meant.

 

Other things seemed to pile up, all pointing away from Shizuo’s image of what a monk was, but he tried to ignore those signs as best he could. Simon and Denis were weird, but they were kind, and their eyes never betrayed any hint of fear they might have had for him or his strength. It felt as though the opposite seemed true, and that they enjoyed having someone with his ability nearby.

 

Simon had taken him into the woods on many occasions, and had taught him the names of various plants and animals. Often, these walks occurred whenever they needed more firewood, and he’d have Shizuo help him rattle trees in an effort to free the dead and broken branches that might be trapped amongst the leaves.

 

When Shizuo had asked why they didn’t just cut a tree down and leave it to dry as his father had, he’d received a stern response.

 

“Killing is wrong, Shi-zu-oh.”

 

It was another thing that Shizuo couldn’t truly understand (even if he did know that trees were living things), but he respected it all the same. Just because something didn’t have a mouth didn’t mean it couldn’t feel pain, so it was probably best to let the tree live.

 

Other lessons were taught, though they sometimes felt more spontaneous than planned. When he’d been instructed on how to read the stars so he could always find his way home to the rundown shack, Denis had spent weeks upon weeks explaining the constellations to an awed (but easily bored and distracted) Shizuo. When Simon had taught (a now sniffling) Shizuo how to bandage Denis’s fingers after he’d accidentally stomped on them, it had felt far more impromptu.

 

Both Simon and Denis were strong, he knew that much, but they were also human. They cared for him in their own ways, trying as much as they could to ensure that he’d grow up confident, and with an internal strength. It was an uphill battle, one that seemed impossible when every terrible memory seemed to be fighting against progress, but they never surrendered. It was, so it would seem, their mission to raise Shizuo as best they could.

 

Three years would pass before Shizuo could ask them why they’d take him, a stranger with a temper, into their home. According to the stories he’d heard at his old village, the monks weren’t allowed to even speak with outsiders. Their entire lives were to be devoted to God, and only those related to them by blood could join the brotherhood. Surely, they’d broken several rules just by acknowledging Shizuo’s existence?

 

“We were waiting for you.” Denis replied casually, as if he’d answered this question a thousand times before.

 

“God said,” Far more enthusiastic, Simon gave two energetic thumbs up, “‘Okay!’”

 

The answer had made Shizuo frown harder than he had been earlier, and after some gentle prodding, he opened up as to why he was disappointed by this good news.

 

“I...” He cleared his throat in an attempt to stop the cracks in his voice from showing, and scratched his head. “...don’t think I believe in God.”

 

With that simple confession, Shizuo had closed his eyes.

 

You couldn’t just tell people who believed in God that you didn’t believe in God! That would hurt their feelings, or their God’s feelings, or something. Plus, they were monks! Shizuo would be cast out of the ‘monastery’, and forced to live in the wild-

 

“That’s fine.” Denis hadn’t stopped slicing the carrot in front of him, and he sounded as unsurprised as ever.

 

“If you love, you love God!” Simon explained happily, rising from his seat before gesturing around them. “God is a word for everything!”

 

“Wha-”

 

“If you love anything, then no signup required. Special deal!”

 

“You sound like a salesman.” An amused Denis smirked, but Shizuo still felt confused.

 

If they were Nowhere, and God was Everything... then what the fuck did that mean?

 

“As long as you have a loving heart, then that’s enough.” Denis elaborated, though he stumbled a little on such a cliched line.

 

“But...” Shizuo scratched at his head a little harder before his hand was slapped away from his scalp by Simon. “So someone just _told_ you I’d be coming?”

 

Both men nodded.

 

“And that was God?”

 

Again, both men nodded.

 

“I don’t believe it. That’s dumb.”

 

Unable to argue with that conclusion, Simon shrugged. “We found you.”

 

Well, Shizuo couldn’t argue with that, either.

 

“Does he get mad at what you wear?”

 

“No, God likes fashion. Has good taste.”

 

That definitely didn’t sound true, but Shizuo chose not to argue. Given that he’d been wearing a miniature version of what his two guardians wore for years, it would have been hypocritical. He let his eyes slip closed and leaned back in his seat, and pondered everything he’d been told.

 

“Shizuo.” Denis’s voice disturbed him from his thoughts, and Shizuo turned his head slightly. “Even Nowhere can become Somewhere, if it’s where you’re meant to be.”

 

“I wasn’t gonna leave or anything...”

 

“Fate will chase you when you run.” With a rare smile, Denis put his knife on the table and focused all his attention on Shizuo. “Be awake early, your training starts tomorrow.”

 

“Trainin-!”

 

“Shi-zu-oh! Nothing comes for free!”

 

“I work!”

 

“Learn skills, make money!”

 

“WHAT SORT OF MONK SAYS THAT?!”


End file.
